


bottoming from the top

by tarquin



Category: The Creatures (Youtube RPF)
Genre: M/M, smoots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 18:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3947086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarquin/pseuds/tarquin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In all actuality Seamus loves being on top.</p><p>Just... not in the way people think of first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bottoming from the top

In all actuality Seamus loves being on top.

Just... not in the way people think of first.

But, first things first, he’s all here for foreplay. Eddie running his long fingers through Seamus' hair with his neatly trimmed nails gently dragging down his scalp. How Eddie then goes for the back of his neck so Seamus' spine shivers, and helps a wry grin break out on his face. How sometimes he’ll guide Seamus down into their sheets with careful slowness, or how other times (like now) Seamus will just get pushed, and then let the momentum take him 'til he bounces down on soft springs.

Either way Seamus loves what comes next, Eddie’s roaming hands, the feeling of warm breath hovering just over his throat. Then he feels teeth there- not a hard bite, just enough pressure to contrast with the way Eddie sucks and hums around his pulse until he can feel Seamus’ heartbeat start to pick up speed.

Seamus isn’t proud of the little noises he makes every time a stray hand passes over his stomach or his hips, or especially when Eddie pulls away from marking him red to instead focus on his lips. But the heady sheen of lust over the boy’s eyes as he does so makes Seamus lose all sense of shame and pride, neither exist when Eddie ducks his head to feverishly whisper how much he loves the other boy, before taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

Only heartbeats, only hands, only clean, bright want is there with them.

God, don’t even get him started on how his mind goes haywire when one of them ruts against the other and it’s, oh yeah, we’re still a little clothed, let’s fix that. Seamus is more than happy to tear off his shorts and Eddie’s jeans as fast as he can, he has done it plenty of times, but there’s something a little extra delicious about how Eddie does it. How he, the boy with no patience in his body, manages to drag Seamus’ boxers off of his frame so slowly, all while his eyes are gleaming like he’s witnessing the best thing in the world.

Meanwhile Seamus turns and looks directly at the pillows because his face is taking a red tint. He can feel the swell of his erection catching the hem of his boxers and Eddie’s gaze isn’t scrutinizing, but he doesn’t know how to handle being this appreciated. Instead he just waits until there are soft sheets under his thighs and he laughs as he turns back, because in the time it took him to become just a little self-conscious, Eddie’s stripped himself bare and proud. He’s poised there between Seamus’ knees, and Seamus feels the hard pulse that’s sent straight down to his groin.

“You’re perfect.” Eddie says for the uptenth time not only in this bedroom, but also in their everyday lives. Seamus thought he’d get sick of hearing that one by now, but so far he hasn’t.

“I’m alright.” He shrugs. “You, on the other hand, you’re the better.”

“Oh no, I’m not having that fight again. Not right now anyway.” Eddie says with a smile. He leans down to take one of Seamus’ legs in his hand, bending the knee and nuzzling the inseam gently as Seamus watches, propped up on his elbows and rapt.

The hand that isn’t gently pulling his knee is sliding down lower on Seamus’ other leg, to his thigh where stops and it rests. It stays there just a second long enough for Seamus to cant his hips up in desperation or impatience if they’re not the same thing. Those careful teeth of Eddie’s make another appearance as they test the crease of Seamus’ knee, the skin there soft and sensitive. Seamus hardly feels the bite, more of a nip than anything, because Eddie’s other hand has found his dick, and is teasing it accordingly.

Seamus hums, he knows he could play the impatient card and start right now if he wanted, but at the same time he’s immobilized. Eddie’s touches are careful, gentle pressure, light squeezes. The hand disappears for a second and Seamus could scream, but he watches as Eddie lifts it to his mouth, carefully wetting his palm and fingers before he goes back in to take Seamus’ length in his hand.

Seamus' elbows waver as Eddie’s motions become careful and precise, guided motions that make his stomach jump and his legs twitch.

Speaking of, Eddie still has a firm grip on one of Seamus’ bent legs, but the other leg has spread naturally, and his curling and uncurling toes are maybe the only part of him betraying how worked up he really is.

He’s not close, but he could get there fast. Especially with the way Eddie’s paused to focus on running his thumb up and down the underside of his length, then teasing the head, dragging a finger through the collection of precum that’s so far gathered there.

Maybe it’s the slow, tenuous motions that currently defines his very existence. Or maybe it’s his breaths, which have suddenly deepened as Seamus focuses only on the pressure around his cock. Or it could even be how his fingers are just starting to knead the bedspread beside him instead of reaching down, because he knows that interrupting Eddie while he’s working will only throw him off track.

But whatever the reason is, a few seconds later Eddie pulls back from where he’d been watching his hand, and Seamus’ reaction to it, and smirks.

“Seamus, I don’t want you to come ‘til I’m inside of you.”

Seamus has never been so relieved not to be sixteen and on a hairpin trigger anymore in his life.

“Yeah,” He readily agrees, pulling himself up a little more so he can meet the other boy’s eyes. “That’s a good idea.”

Eddie preens momentarily, giving Seamus’ shaft one more agonizingly cruel, perfectly nuanced pump, before rolling over to his side of the bed.

He says “I’m glad you agree, because my knees were starting to hurt so fucking bad.”

Seamus coughs a haggard, touch-drunk laugh. “You’re so good at setting the mood.”

“Got you hard didn’t I? And me too, so,”

Seamus can’t argue with that.

While all of this teasing has been going on, Seamus hasn’t _not_ thought of Eddie’s cock. Which, despite hardly touching anything but his own thighs and belly, has still remained at least half hard. Seamus burns at the thought, that just seeing him start to flush and writhe has done enough for his boyfriend to stay turned on.

Seamus wants to touch him. Maybe as compensation for the endorphins that are spinning wildly out of control in Seamus’ head, or maybe it's because he’s jealous. Eddie’s gotten to have his fun working Seamus into a mess, but Seamus has hardly got to feel him. Hasn’t pressed square in the middle of his chest where Eddie’s heartbeat pounds a heavy rhythm, hasn’t had a chance to draw a piercing giggle from his throat while he kisses his hips, nothing.

But his time will come.

Eddie returns to the forefront of his attention with a clear tube in hand and Seamus cocks his head to the side.

“You wanna do it, or you wanna watch me?” He asks, and celebrates how thickly Eddie swallows when the full question hits him. Seamus is more practiced between the two of them, and enjoys it more than a little when he looks up from his efforts so see Eddie shark-eye’d and starving for him, but he has a feeling he knows which answer he’ll get.

“M-me, I’ll do it.” Eddie says, but it sounds almost like his throat has gone dry.

“Whatever you say.” Seamus hums flippantly. He flops back into the comforter and spreads his legs, then listens for a moment to see if his flippant attitude has succeeded in making Eddie pass out from pure blood redirection.

But Eddie holds his ground. Seamus will get him one day.

Instead he hears the cap of the bottle pop open, and the decidedly un-sexy noise of liquid being squirted out of it. Seamus peeks up and Eddie’s on his knees again, working the clear substance between his hands to warm it (which is something they have since established is a must-do.)

“I can get on your lap if you want, so your legs can rest.” Seamus offers. Eddie doesn’t even look at the bait, doesn't think about taking it.

“Oh no,” Eddie tuts, “You lay back for now. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

Seamus gives him a shrug, it was worth a shot. Maybe it should distress him that Eddie knows all of his games now, but all it really does is excite him. At least now he’s got someone who will play along.

Seamus gets comfortable and Eddie does the same, and it isn’t long before Seamus is wriggling his toes at the familiar feeling of intrusion.

He loves it, first of all, the getting fucked part. He wouldn’t trade that for the world.

But the beginning stages are always a little less fun. Even now when his body is trained to relax and he knows Eddie knows what he’s doing, it feels nothing less than medical to have such a small, blunt object worked into him.

Eddie’s practiced though, and he knows how to make it easier. He carefully circles the outside of Seamus’ rim until the boy lets out a slow breath, and in time one finger transitions to two, which is a bit more on the plane in which Seamus is operating.

“Like scissors, a little.” He reminds him. Eddie follows through, and Seamus squints at the stretch and resistance of his body, but not for long. Soon Eddie can work two fingers cleanly, and has moved from scissoring to bending, then quirking and searching for that angle that makes Seamus gasp and-!

“Oh, fuck-”

Seamus hears the proudest, most satisfied giggle from his lower end as he jolts. He feels Eddie go for his prostate again and he’s more prepared this time, but that doesn’t make the sensation grab him any less, doesn’t make the muscles in his legs clench any gentler.

Seamus moves to elbows again just to see this masochist in action, and he smiles at what he sees. Eddie, poised there between his knees, one hand around his own cock, the other one lost between Seamus’ thighs. He looks so comfortable there, and his fingers are very much welcome, but Seamus isn’t well known for his patience either.

“Three fingers if you want babe, but you need to get in me. I need you now.”

“Seamus, you’re trying to kill me.” Eddie pants, reluctantly releasing his erection.

“Every waking moment.” Seamus replies cheekily, then gasps and shudders as Eddie prods his prostate again, grinning as he does so.

“You asshole!” Seamus gasps, and he knows Eddie has something to say about how that’s where his fingers are right now, but he keeps it in.

“I can stop if you want.” He says instead.

“Don’t you dare.”

Three fingers and up is where the impatience really starts to set in and Seamus’ gut starts to boil. The thickness starts to spark tactile memories to life, as his body begins to catch up with the heaviness of his mind. Eddie is quick with three fingers, or maybe he can just read that Seamus is starting to unravel. All too quickly for Seamus’ liking Eddie’s hand is gone, and without them he feels cored and empty. His dick’s still throbbing and his mind is whirring and he has had _enough_.

“You ready, then?” Eddie asks, positioning himself rapidly so he’s looming over the shorter boy. One hand props him up beside Seamus’ shoulder and his knees are spread so teasingly over Seamus’ midsection. If he thought it would do anything to tame the burning inside of him Seamus would rut up in the hopes of making some kind of contact.

But instead he just looks up at Eddie, who’s looking him like he’s made of gold.The starved need Seamus has is reflected in Eddie’s own gaze, but the adoration is what makes Seamus squirm. As if to top it off, Eddie takes a hand (Seamus isn’t sure if it’s the one Eddie’d been pumping himself with or if it was the one in his ass, he doesn’t care to find out,) and moves away a few long pieces of hair that have stuck to Seamus’ forehead with sweat, and kisses him there.

Seamus is boiling.

“Don’t get romantic on me now.” He says, swerving away from Eddie and ducking under the boy’s arm so he’s no longer underneath him. For a brief second they’re parallel, and then Seamus is nudging Eddie on to his back, grinning as he complies.

“I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable, that’s all.” Eddie replies, settling back so he’s laid straight. Seamus takes in the sight of his body, soft tan skin and the tattoos etched into it, his long legs and taut belly.

He can’t believe Eddie had the audacity to call him perfect.

“This is the most comfortable I’ll ever be.”

The boy’s work, handling himself while stretching Seamus, has paid off, and Seamus only toys with his length a little bit. Don't get him wrong, he’s very much a fan of the endless range of squeaks and squeals that can be teased out of Eddie at any time. But Seamus' skin is still hot and any time his dick brushes anything he feels like he’s on the verge of losing it, so he lets Eddie go after only a short teasing.

Seamus swings a leg over Eddie’s torso and he swears he can see the boy shudder. Seamus doesn’t consider himself a master at concealing all his tells and reactions, but Eddie is on a whole other world of wordless communication. Right now his body is saying ‘holy shit’.

Uncapping the lube again, Seamus runs a quick hand up Eddie’s length just to be safe, then nods at the boy.

“Help me out here a little?” He asks, and Eddie is quick and pleased to respond. The boy grabs his freshly lubed dick and positions his hips while Seamus aligns himself over them, adrenaline already starting to pique.

He swallows thickly as he starts to lower himself down, letting out a short gasp as he feels the warmth of Eddie’s cock underneath him. Steadily he relaxes the muscles in his legs, sinking further until he can nod at Eddie with unfocused, dazed eyes, and the boy can push up just a little to help the breach.

Shit. Fuck. Yes.

Seamus sucks in a breath for the first moments, and Eddie’s eyes all but roll back into his head. For Seamus it’s not particularly painful but it’s still a stretch, and he takes it as best he can. (Which, in his opinion, is not badly at all.)

Seamus’ body craves for him to go the rest of the way down, begs him to impale himself, but he holds back. He hums at the idea of stuffing himself so full so fast, but time and experience has taught him that this particular desire is not to be trusted. Not when his job involves as much sitting (and not complaining about the soreness of his ass) that it does.

(The look on Eddie’s face that one time though had been worth it.)

Instead Seamus moves agonizingly slow, until sweat starts to mat his brow again and his thighs start to quiver and burn with the strain. But Seamus hardly feels any of it, not when everything inside of him is focused on the the feeling of skin dragging on skin, of widening and pushing and the coils in his stomach that burn.

Seamus thinks it must be eons before he’s actually all the way down, sat flush on Eddie’s lap. The poor boy underneath him is in another dimension entirely, eyes blank and mouth slightly agape as Seamus clenches and twitches around him. He can just see the breaths Eddie’s sucking in through the outline of his ribs, and his fingers are knotted tight around bedsheets, going white at the knuckle.

“Seems to me,” Seamus says, and his voice was supposed to be haughty and proud but comes out a stressed whine, “That you were the one not prepared.”

“I fucking love you, Seamus.”

Seamus cracks a dry laugh at this, then he tries to move. Just a careful settling motion, gaining his bearings as his lower body adjusts to the intrusion and the way he can feel Eddie’s pulse inside of him. It hurts, being so full always hurts a little at first, but the pain is menial at worst and the way Eddie gasps as Seamus moves just that much makes it worth it.

“S-Sea. Seamus.” He whines.

Seamus knows that the boy must be fighting his own battle as well. Seamus has Eddie’s lower half steadily weighted down but he can still feel the way the boy’s hips are rolling, trying to hitch up just a little, maybe cause just a little more friction.

Seamus doesn’t allow for this.

Sucking in a hard breath he presses forward, leaning in so that Eddie’s cock presses against him in a myriad of new and exciting ways, not all of them enjoyable, not all of them painful. Eddie just releases a contented grunt, words seem past him now, and allows Seamus to continue with what he’s doing.

Carefully Seamus traces up the length of Eddie’s wrists with his fingers, tempting his grip on the sheets to loosen. Eddie does so, hands twitching, until Seamus has a wrist in each hand and has the boy pinned down underneath him. He looks down at Eddie and grins, going redder than he already is at the sight of how worked up he’s got him. Eddie's eyes are closed and his brow is furrowed. He’s got a half-smile on, though it looks like he’s biting the inside of his cheek with a lot of concentration. He’s panting, holding back little whines and noises which is unlike him, except for when Seamus has him so impassioned.

“I’m gonna move now,” Seamus says shakily, voice once again betraying that he’s not nearly as suave with this as he’s pretending to be. Eddie just nods, Seamus thinks he could be on fire and saying these words and Eddie would still just agree. “I’m gonna go slow, can you take it?”

It’s a nicer way of asking if moving a fraction of an inch will cause Eddie to burst, but either way Eddie just nods blankly, fingers rolling into fists and unrolling where Seamus has him held down.

Gently, slowly, Seamus starts to rock on his lap. Eddie releases a whine immediately but he neither thrusts up nor shudders, so Seamus takes that as a sign to go ahead. The burn intensifies as Seamus gets his body used to the feeling of being so fucked, but he pushes past it. He continues and waits until the pain steadily fades out through repetition, and soon he can concentrate instead on the drag of Eddie’s cock inside of him, and how fucking good it feels to be so full.

“Fuck, fuck, shit.” He starts to mumble as it starts to feel better, then good, then amazing. He can’t aim for his prostate this way without taking a few gymnastic courses, but just riding Eddie is amazing in its own right. It has him sweating and panting and whining, moreso as his hips start to pick up speed. Below him his hands slide up so they’re no longer pinning down Eddie’s wrists, but rather tangling their fingers together, keeping him held down but also feeling Eddie desperately grasp for him, squeezing his hand tight, until it almost hurts.

Not that Seamus can feel anything right now besides the burn in his thighs and the weight in his ass.

It’s once Seamus stops being gentle and starts properly fucking himself that Eddie starts to pipe up as well. His hips start to rise and fall with Seamus’ own motions and it makes it even better, getting that much more stimulation. Before long, joining Seamus’ quiet curses and wobbly moans are accolades from Eddie.

“Shit, Seamus, you’re so fucking good. You feel so fucking good, fuck. Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He’s not thinking about stopping. He’s not thinking about anything to be honest. His mind is consumed only with the jerking motions of his hips and the distant noise of Eddie singing his praises, and the hot sweat he can feel sliding down his back. He feels like he could be perfectly content here, now, forever, full and panting and holding on to Eddie for dear life.

“Seamus, babe, I’m gonna. I’m so fucking close dude.” Eddie pants beneath him.

Like that, the spell is broken.

Seamus collapses, his upper arms aching from keeping himself held up for this long. He can still prop himself up on an elbow so he’s not entirely smothering his boyfriend, but the time for hard work on his end has now passed. He knows the drill by now, and he’s all for it.

One hand remains tightly clasped in Eddie’s, but he loosens his grip on the other one so Eddie can snake it between their bodies, where Seamus’ cock hangs dripping and neglected. At the first sign of pressure there Seamus gasps, but not as hard as he does a second later, as Eddie starts to push into him again as best he can. The angle isn’t difficult and Seamus can roll with it, he can will his aching thighs to lift and drop him just a little so Eddie’s not doing all the work.

By now they’re harried, sweaty, desperate messes, and Eddie tries to keep the rhythm of his thrusts the same as his tugs on Seamus’ dick. But pacing and precision has left them as everything, everything melts around them but that thickly cloying need.

“Sea, I love you.” Eddie gasps, and then Seamus feels teeth catch the skin just under his ear for a moment, nipping quick. Seamus’ free hand scrabbles for anything it can grip, landing on Eddie’s shoulder and staying there as his orgasm takes him first.

He hides his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck as his body floods with white noise, as his ass squeezes tight around Eddie’s length and his dick releases itself all over Eddie’s closed fist. He makes a small, undignified little whining noise just under Eddie’s ear, and breathes in the smell of his skin and sweat that’s drenched him there.

His body shudders, going rigid and riding the aftershocks as they pulse through him, mingling deliciously with the ache in his thighs and the way his blood thrums through his veins. Slowly he feels himself go limp, each tensed muscle in his body now sliding lax.

It isn’t long at all before Eddie loses himself too, releasing his hold on Seamus’ spent dick to instead pull the boy down so they’re chest to chest, so he can be as close to him as humanly possible as his hips stutter to a halt. His dick pulses deep inside the other boy and he makes a show of his moan, which is deep and guttural, and ends with a squeak.

But even as he goes ragdoll under Seamus he doesn’t move away. He keeps Seamus there as long as he can.

They suck hardy breaths in tandem, Seamus unwilling to lift himself off of Eddie, Eddie just gently maneuvering himself so that he slips out of the other boy. Seamus shudders at the emptiness, Eddie winces at the drag on his oversensitive dick. But they’re content. Seamus drops a few kisses on to Eddie’s neck and jaw, words are beyond him at the moment, but he can still show appreciation.

Eddie of course is giggling, what else is new. However, this is a particularly happy noise that Seamus only gets to hear when the other boy’s body is swimming in dopamine, a joy brought on by the natural high of having been held, and orgasm’d on, by his partner. Seamus thinks it might be his favorite sound, not only of Eddie's but just in general.

They stay like that for a little while longer, while the sweat cools and they catch their breath. Then slowly Seamus peels himself off of his lover, flopping on the empty side of the mattress and running a hand through his hair.

“You’re good, Seamus.” Eddie mutters to him, though he’s still on his back, like he can’t will himself to move. “You are so fucking good.”

“Yeah, I know.” Seamus says contentedly. “Not as good as you though.”

”Nah, you’re better.”

“Will you get me a cup of water?”

Eddie snorts at this, turning to face him.

“So you accept it then? For once? That you’re the best thing that ever happened to me?”

Seamus crosses his arms over his chest. He needs a towel for his stomach. And a shower. But his thirst comes first. “You know what? If it means I don’t have to get up, sure.”

To this Eddie grins and leans in beside him, pecking him on the temple before swinging his legs off the bed. Seamus watches him head towards the kitchen with a light smile, pleased that the best thing that ever happened to him will be back soon.


End file.
